


I Just Can't Think Of Anything

by Daxii



Series: Thinking Escapes Me [3]
Category: Free!
Genre: Doggy Style, Established Relationship, M/M, Protective Sousuke, Rin spanking, Sou's poor heart strings, blow jobs in the bath, mackerel is more effective than chocolate, moody Haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIRD PART of a series inspired by How I Handle Business. </p><p>Haru's stuck in a rut.<br/>Sousuke can't find the words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Sorry, I’m seeing someone,” and his face falls, like a kicked puppy. Even on the wrong side of rejection, he’s still _striking_ , in an odd sort of way.

“Though you might say something like that,” Kisumi winks, and turns his gaze to Haru. For a second, I’m pretty sure he’s about to proposition him as well, but he just leans back on his heels and smirks. “You stay out of trouble, cutie.”

We get back into the office after our excursion to a meeting with Rei and a client – which has left Haru looking particularly peeved off – and I head straight in to get rid of my sticky suit jacket on the rack by the desk. Haru stays by the door, and raises his eyebrow in question when I turn back around.

I nod.

He clicks the lock.

I take to my chair and lean back into the thick leather, letting it rock slightly as he saunters his little ass over and comes to perch on the desk in front of me. He slips off his shoes with just a flick of his toes and brings his feet up onto my knees. His socks have a dog face on them. He’s utterly _adorable_ sometimes.

“So who are you seeing?” he asks, balancing his elbow on his knee and resting his little chin in his palm.

I stroke the tops of his feet. “Oh, just this kid. Proper pretty little thing, he is,” I say, putting on a wistful tone. “Even his feet are cute. Can’t say much for his taste in socks, though.”

A little smile pulls at his lips and I run my fingers up his shins, down his thighs and then rest my hands on his hips. “Come here,” I coax, and his eyes flash this little spark of _joy_ that I can’t ever get enough of when I help lift him into my lap, his knees straddling either side of my legs, pert bottom jutting purposefully into my thighs and I can’t help but slide my hands around to squeeze it.

He moves in for a kiss, this little air of confidence still lingering within him, riding on the high of Kisumi’s rejection, because he’s _never_ this forward, especially at work. It’s one of those long, tender kisses, where our noses brush and it ends with his forehead sinking down onto my cheek. Even if he won’t admit it, I know he likes my lap, but that’s okay, because I like having him in it too.

“You okay, baby?” I ask him, stroking his back and carding through his hair.

“Mm,” and he nods and brings his arms under mine to wrap around my back, his legs joining just a moment later.

He’s fine, just being cuddly, unconsciously seeking out affection to calm his little self down from the uptight morning we’ve had, him in particular being thoroughly scrutinised and critiqued to the point of rudeness by hot-shot clients looking for samples of his work. And to get it, he dotes on me first, especially as he knows it instils something particularly protective over him in me when I get to just _hold_ him. He’s manipulative, in his own sneaky sort of way, but I also know he likes just sitting close, like he still can’t believe it.

“Well you just sit tight while I write up all that, then we’ll get some grub in you, kay?” I direct his chin onto my shoulder while I speak, turning my head to kiss the side of his neck just lightly.

“Mmhmm,” he dismisses, a little bit like I’ve annoyed him with my patronising tone, but mostly like he’s just relaxing.

So that’s where he sits, doing a delightful little koala impression, for the next three quarters of an hour while I do the write up. Doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move even a millimetre. He might even have fallen asleep, with how limp and relaxed he feels. I have no problem with this.

“Haru?” I whisper.

“What?” he grunts. Ah. So he _was_ asleep.

I turn and kiss his cheek in apology. “Hop up. Get the print out for me?”

He’s cute after a nap, all groggy and somehow developing a bedhead just from where he’s been tucked under my chin as he peels himself away and pads to the shelf where the printer sits. He sits down hard in my lap on his return, just perched on the end of my knees, almost like he’s sulking, and it’s really a wonder no one’s asked why we haven’t brought another chair into our shared working space yet. He signs and prints his name diligently, leaving space above for mine.

“How are you holding up, with this?” I ask him.

“With what?”

“Your new work load,” I clarify, and he sinks back a bit. He’s always a little on edge that I’ll be talking about _us_.

“It’s effort,” he grumbles, tilting his head down and sideways.

“Yeah?” he’s still inherently lazy. “But how was your last wage slip?”

He makes this little sigh, this little, adorable pleased sound. I know exactly what his last wage was like. I wrote it.

“I bought new pillows,” he says, turning slightly, so we can see each other.

“Is that an invitation to come and try them out?” I tease, working my hands to his waist and rubbing my fingers – not tickling, don’t want to aggravate the monster.

“Mmhmm.”

I stroke one hand up his back, a shudder rattling through his spine. “Are you free this evening?”

He jumps a little, surprised. Our rendezvous are generally assigned to the weekend, and almost always at my place. I always think he seems a little tentative about taking me home.

“I have dinner at Makoto’s this evening,” he says. I start to nod, but a flash of his eyes catches me off guard. “But… after nine?”

“The back door?” I smirk, bringing my face a little closer to his.

“Wait for me, if I get held up.”

“Of course,” how he even _thinks_ I’ll be able to leave without at least a goodnight kiss, I’ll never know.

And speaking of kisses…

I nudge my way forwards, bringing him back and turning him sideways into my lap as I go. “Hey,” I mumble, hot breath on his neck, brushing my nose on his cheek. I push my lips to the side of his mouth, and he raises this cheeky little eyebrow before fully accepting my kiss, sticking his tongue out to find mine and drag me in, reaching one arm up and back behind my neck while I hold him all over his front.

 

We get to lunch at the end of everyone else’s hour, so there’s little choice in the canteen, but there’ll be little choice in the local sandwich shops anyway, so I go for the remains of the mac and cheese and Haru just grabs a tortilla wrap from the shelf. The seating is relatively empty, and we find a table for two by the window. His knees slip between mine when we sit. Cutie.

“Do the running and hand in that write up?” I ask him between bites.

“To pretend I contributed?”

“Don’t think taking a nap gets you any favours, except with me.”

“Pervert.”

“I don’t get off on you _sleeping_ , Haru,” although he is exceptionally angelic looking, especially when he’s all tucked in under my plush sheets, head sunken in a feather pillow, arms splayed out an up and his hair all tussled, a little bit sweaty, chest still heaving with exhaustion. It’s probably against some kind of law for someone to be so _adorable_ while so utterly debauched, but never mind. He’s gorgeous.

Haru, fairly, doesn’t look convinced.

It’s unfortunate that we have to keep the office door unlocked the majority of the time, but we _do_ have work to do, so Haru takes himself off to the chaise, sprawling himself out as ever, getting himself into his little zone, laptop up on his chest. Apparently he’s going to sketch out the desired drafts and hand them in all together. I know Rei is just _loving_ his efficiency.

And we might just be a little motivated by saving time to have the occasional make-out session. Especially when Haru gets bored or frustrated, sometimes grunting in his annoyance, maybe muttering away, and I’ll go over to sooth him or just gather his legs across my lap while he works through it. If he’s irritated enough – and usual tired, when it gets to this point – he’ll push the whole thing aside and come over to me, latching on just like earlier, even while I ignore him and carry on working.

He likes that. Even if we’re just relaxing with a video game, he can sit quietly for _hours_ , napping or not, just curled into me. It’s domestic and sweet, and he’s even _cuter_ when there’s not even a peep of snark or sarcasm coming out of him, even though he’s still so fun when he’s like that, like he’s still purposefully trying to get on my nerves and get a rise out of me.

Which maybe he is, because despite his squeals, I think he secretly _likes_ the tickles as punishment. He definitely likes the attention, if nothing else, especially the apologetic little kisses afterwards, little sweet pecks all over his cheeks and eyelids and nose while he pulls a pout. The pout doesn’t last long when I lick it away.

“Sou?” he calls out, his casual preference in nicknames never failing to make me just _smile_ at him in response. “This okay?”

It’s _always_ okay. It’s always _absolutely perfect_ , but he’s got this new thing of asking for my opinion, and he doesn’t seem happy if I just tell him how good it is.

I give his temple a quick kiss, crouching next to him and putting my arm around his shoulders, just gently, it could be _meaningless_ for all the attention the pair of us pay it, it’s just so natural to have him close that I can’t help it. “His left leg looks a bit… too sexy?” I suggest. With a quick stroke of the pen on his tablet, he’s toned down the muscle definition just a degree, wordlessly, even though it’s only supposed to be a rough sketch.

He gets another kiss to his temple. “Good boy.”

“Mm.”

Putting his laptop on the table beside us, he rolls his eyes at me, puffing out a sigh. He’s _tired_ today.

“Rin working you too hard for next weekend already?” I say, quietly, stroking my hand down his arm and giving his fingers a squeeze.

“Mm…”

“Are you sure you’re up for tonight? Don’t want you staying up past your bedtime when you’re already so tired…”

He nods quickly, grasping my hand and cutting me off. That’s a yes, then.

“I’ll be there,” I assure, rubbing his stomach. “Come on, you have a delivery to make.”

He grunts, lazy, and I grab his hands to pull him up as I stand. Pen-drive in hand, he gets up on his toes to give me a kiss before heading up to the print room to get his work done on glossy card with the ink so strong all the workers in that room are probably high.

I lift my chin up, getting my lips out of his reach.

Someone’s not a happy Haru, after that little stunt.

If a kiss could be forceful, he pulls it off, an assaulting almost nibble into the underside of my jaw before he storms away, and I can’t help but chuckle, which probably just annoys him even more. I can make it up to him later.

I’m filing when he returns. The cabinet is behind the door and he _almost_ catches me with it with how hard he pushes it open.

“ _Watch_ it, Haru. Calm down,” he’s even more rattled than before he left. “What happened?”

He shakes his head, dismissing me, and goes to walk back to his chaise. I grab his wrist, jerking him to turn towards me, and just stand, a silent communication with his wavering eyes, all wide. I try and look soft, but he _knows_ he can talk to me if he wants to.

“Sorry,” he says, turning his head away.

“What’s bothering you?” I ask him, being careful to stay soft and gentle, sliding my hand down from his wrist and into his. He squeezes, and shakes his head. I let him go.

I at least get a kiss when I drop him off at the station after work – he won’t let me drive him home, apparently it’s too far out of my way, and I think he _likes_ his train journeys. I take an extra minute to run down his cheek with my finger and give him some extra fuss, which he doesn’t brush off.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I tell him, resting our heads together, and give him a final peck.

 

I have a light dinner and a thorough shower and spend some time emailing a customer with a query. Excitement runs through me, and I’m already fighting off an erection when I’m getting back into the car to head over to his house, tomorrow’s work clothes hanging up on the suit hook in the back. _That_ should be a nice surprise for him, if nothing else. I won’t have to beat myself up over that little sulking face when I have to leave him later on.

I’m early, but that’s okay. His back door is always left open anyway, a secret I’d been let in on only last week, and a perk I haven’t gotten to use yet. I let myself in to the empty house and head down to his kitchen, putting a little parcel of choice mackerel in his fridge – it wins him over more than chocolates, trust me, I’ve tried – and put my clothes and bag in his room.

And… well, he’s probably not going to be _long_ , and it seems the right night to live out a little fantasy of mine.

I take of my clothes, palming my cock comfortably and go to lie on his bed. His new pillows are _wonderfully_ soft and, showing his intentions, he’s left the old ones stacked in a little pile at the bottom corner of his bed, against the wall where he won’t disturb them when he’s just sleeping by himself. They’re there for me to prop under his ass when I fuck him. I might buy him some silk sheets.

He must know I’m here – he’ll recognise the car outside – and I get harder and harder as I hear his little feet padding around looking for me, and there’s the most adorable gasp when he steps into his bedroom doorway.

“Hey,” I say, sulty, holding my hand out.

He totters over, lacing our fingers as he climbs onto the bed and kneels beside me. It’s like Makoto waves this magic wand over him, sprinkles him in happy dust, because he’s _smiling_ so wide when he comes down to kiss me.

And I’m pretty sure I’m in love.


	2. Chapter 2

We start out kissing softly, easing him into it and getting him all laid out on top of me, wrapping my legs around his when they’re lying between mine, hands roaming over his back, tussling his hair, squeezing his ass, just touching, feeling, getting as much of him as I can. And he’s just _sooo_ content to kiss back, bringing both his hands up into my hair, gripping and mussing, eyes glued shut, a little moan vibrating from his throat to his tongue.

I take my time getting him undressed, peeling his polo up his back and over his head, and then roll him over, settling myself straddled over his hips, and proceed to kiss all over his neck and collar bones, moving out to his shoulders and back in, and to the other side. Little pecks down his biceps and forearms, and then long, hot licks back up, while my hands move to his chest, toying with the little buds of his nipples.

His eyes are wide, blown black with lust when I come back to his face to kiss him. His mouth hands open, but the corners of his lips curl upwards, and he makes a little grunting, humming noise of complaint when I pause briefly just to look at him.

After another kiss I move off him to work on his pants, just comfy sweats for his casual evening attire. Not exactly something I can take my time with unbuttoning and stripping down his legs, but I tug slowly anyway, the soft inside of the material running smoothly down his silky ski– jammers.

“Oh, Haru…” I say, bonking my head down onto his hip bone, kissing at the hem of the Lycra. He didn’t have these on _earlier_ , I know that for a fact.

But at least this means he’s had a nice bath before going out to Makoto’s. And his dick does look _marvellous_ , the outline of his hard-on straining the fabric, his length stretching out, bulging at his thigh.

I roll them down, getting them over the gorgeous curve of his ass and work them down his thighs, kissing from the curve of his waist and over his hip as I go, down his thigh, just wavering a _little_ bit close to the inside, licking the back of his knee. And he’s just so _ready_ , cock throbbing, leaking already, little pants and a film of sweat, all hot and so _needy_ , needing me to touch him and kiss him and lick him.

He has more doggy socks on – apparently he’s acquired a multi pack of the things recently. I leave them.

His little hand twitches towards me, reaching for my shoulder to gently rub, first, because he worries _so much_ about that, and then nudge me up and over him again. I take both our cocks in my hand when I get back on top, holding my weight up. He groans, tugging me roughly by the neck into a kiss. It’s all I can do not to let out a little laugh.

Yep. Definitely love this boy.

“You’re awfully horny,” I say, sort of scolding, mostly amused, and he pouts against my mouth.

“Missed you,” he mutters, but then casts his gaze away quickly, like he’s embarrassed. I get his attention back with a kiss.

“You’ve had me all week,” it’s Thursday, but I know what he means. He misses _this_ kind of intimacy. Maybe we’ll have to bump up our schedule.

He glances away again, and suddenly feels so _unsure_ beneath me. I drop my head into the crook of his neck, nuzzling away. “I like it, though. How _keen_ you are,” because I’m equally as keen.

I rock my hand, rubbing our dicks together, and he relents his nerves, bringing his arms to hug my shoulders and caress my neck, grunting little pants into my ear. I kiss his face, not wanting to obstruct the _devilish_ little noises he’s making. I love them.

“Will you get on your knees for me? In your little doggy socks…” I tease, breathing on his cheek.

He blinks up at me, a little bit surprised and annoyed that my hand has stilled, but nods. I move off him.

His back arches perfectly, face buried down into his pillows and perfect ass high for my reach. I spread his legs apart, taking each thigh in my hands, and rubbing up the insides and cupping his cock and balls as I pass, keeping hold as I move my other hand around his ass, and give each cheek a kiss before I get the lube off the bedside table and set to fingering him open. It’s a new angle, just _watching_ my fingers slide in and out, so _easy_ too, since this is so regular.

Haru makes a little grunty moan into the pillows, so I readjusted our angle so he can bury his head into my shoulders instead, his little body still in easy reach for my arms. He brings one arm over my chest, cuddling in. He can finish from this, and he _will_ , if I let him. I pull out, and he is utterly _livid_ at the loss, turning his head to scowl at me. Kissing that one right away.

“Do you want to do it like this?” I ask him, running my hand down his back.

He just nods. Good. It seems fitting.

“Good boy, my pet,” I coo as I sink into him in one go, hugging his hips as he shudders, and then hunker down over him, arms tight around his body as I begin to rut against him, not thrusting in and out, just pumping _deeper_ inside of him, taking my time, getting sucked in and lost inside his heat.

After a needy look over his shoulder – which I don’t waste any time in kissing – I reach under him to take his desperate cock  and thoroughly pamper it, teasing and stroking and caressing, playing with his leaking slit. I take a nipple in the fingers of my other hand, and that’s it for him, he’s fighting it, but it’s okay, he _needs_ it.

“Come on, pup.”

I catch everything in my hand and let him shudder for a minute, stroking his back with my clean fingers as I grab tissues to wipe off the other. He drives his hips forwards, separating us, and falls onto his back. His earlier smile has been replaced by his open mouthed, closed eyes look of wonder and satisfaction. I get his legs in my hands and push back in, laying on top of him again to fuck him gently as he comes down.

He opens his eyes, like he’s seeing me for the first time all day.

“Hi.”

He blinks, like a little owl, eyes all sparkling, and hooks his arms around my neck to bring me close, all up in his face, looking like he’s going to kiss me.

“Woof,” and he _squeezes_ around my cock.

 

The only word I can think of to describe him when we’re finishing up our quick shower is _disappointed_ , and that just won’t do.

“What?” I ask, giving him a kiss to his forehead. “Did you want to go again?”

“We’d be up all night,” yes, especially if Haru had any say in it, “you have to go…”

I get the towel wrapped around him, tight on his waist and drag him all up close. “I’m staying.”

“Oh,” and he pushes his face into my chest.

“Didn’t think I’d come just for your ass, did you?”

Apparently yes, he had though that, with how he says nothing.

“You’re more than just a booty call,” I soothe, cupping his face. “You’re my _boyfriend_ , Haru. I lo–”

“Boyfriend?” he cuts me off.

I chuckle. “Yes. You know, comes with the whole _exclusive_ thing, the _dating_ thing, the _making out_ with you until I can’t even breathe thing.”

“Mm…” he looks down, and makes a little click of his tongue like he’s finding actual words, but nothing comes.

I need to do something about this mood of his. If even _sex_ hasn’t kicked it for long, there’s something really wrong. I get him back to the bedroom, get my arm under his head and curl him into me.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Haru…”

He sighs. “I’m fine.”

I stroke his hair, bringing him in even closer, so my nose touches his cheek, legs all intertwined, probably holding just tight enough that he can’t get away without force. “Do I smell Kisumi?” I muse.

He shakes his head, a soft, so obviously _sad_ movement.

“Rin? The next competition?”

Another shake, and a squeeze as he finally – and I realise just how much I’ve been missing it – hug me back.

I hate to dwell on it, they’re so close, but… “Makoto?”

He almost laughs at me. That’s something, at least.

“Haruka –”

“Are you definitely staying?”

“Of course,” is he worried I’m put off by his mood? All I want to do is help him through it. “Baby…”

“Good.”

And he just rolls over, taking my arm with him to hug him tight, settling into the pillows, and I just… I don’t know what to do. The only thing _to_ do, really, is keep a tight hold, so I’ll if he moves away in the night.

Even upset, he has this amazing ability to fall asleep easily, and that makes me feel better, at least. There’s a part of me that’s vain enough to decide it’s me helping him sleep easily and… well, when he shuffles backwards, positively _shrinking_ against me, I think that might even be the truth.

“I love you, Haru…”

And I’m starting to think he’s fallen for me, too.

 

I’d _forgotten_ about this part.

“Sousuke…” and it can only be the voice of my Haru, nudging me awake. I reach my arms out, feeling for him, grabbing for him, and tuck him back down with me. “We have to get up…Sou…?”

It’s still _dark_ outside, and I’ve slept heavy enough that I’ve not even heard Haru’s alarm. “Mmmrgh…”

“Come on,” he coaxes, and I can feel him nosing at my cheek.

“Don’t make me…” at least I think that’s what I say. It’s what I’m aiming for, anyway, within the grunts and groans and stretches.

“I have practice…” and Rin will _kill_ me if I make Haru skip.

And Rin’s already going to be _highly_ unimpressed with Haru’s… _ahem_ , “situation” around his rear.

But it’s not even _five_ in the morning yet, and all I want to do is cuddle up between Haru and these pillows and hide under the covers for another two hours but… it’s Haru.

I rub my eyes as I sit up, Haru slipping his arm around my waist, like he’s holding me up for the high chance I fall back down. “You keep me young, don’t you, little one?” I muster, bringing my head down onto his shoulder.

“I’ll run us a bath…” he says, even as he’s hugging my shoulders and pushing a hand back through my hair. “And then I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Not mackerel…”

“Don’t buy it for me if you don’t want to eat it,” he grunts, and I don’t know _when_ he found it in the fridge, but he gives an appreciative little squeeze, obviously bored of me saying how it’s my pleasure whenever he tries to thank me.

“Should I bring my own sausages for next time then?”

“You already _did_ bring your sausage…”

Oh, so we’re playing _this_ game, are we? “Are you saying you want to change it up a little this morning?”

“Maybe...”

I don’t know _where_ this boy learned to suck cock, but swimmer’s lungs and his lithe little body balled up in the bath have suddenly made this early morning very much worth it.

And to top it off, he makes me waffles, and we’re at the pool before for six.

 

“Didn’t expect to see you this morning,” Rin greets, hooking an arm around Haru’s shoulders _immediately_ as we walk into the locker room. He mumbles some instructions into Haru’s ear, hulking over him, and Haru just nods, just so _done_ with his fussing. Rin sends him off with a harsh spank.

Hiding his wince, Haru throws Rin the most incredulous _glare_ over his shoulder, and then his eyes hover on me in a worried little glance before he dashes away.

“There’s something _up_ with that kid these days… what did you do?” Rin pokes me hard in the chest.

“Don’t blame _me_ , I was wondering the same thing… he’s just so… _jittery_. But he was doing _fine_ this morning before you have to go slapping his ass.”

“Oh why, because if he wasn’t hurting before he is _now_ , huh?”

“I was very gentle, thank you very much,” I huff. Rin just smirks away, flashing his stupid teeth. “Find your own little butt to spank, that one’s _mine_ ,” because really, I have enough problems with _Kisumi_ stealing glances around every corner.

“But seriously, has he not said what’s wrong? You’re really not fighting or anything, are you?”

I shake my head. “Closer than ever,” I smile, “but he just keeps getting so… I don’t know. Like he’s worried I don’t want to. Or like _he_ doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t want to upset me.”

“How long’s it been?”

“Six weeks, give or take… I still don’t think he’s told anyone. Do you think he’s embarrassed?”

“The age thing…? Nah, kid doesn’t seem the type. Talk to him… before either of you get hurt.”

I neglect to say that it’s _already_ too late to stop me getting hurt, if Haru really is wavering on this whole _relationship_ thing.

And here I was, thinking he was in love too.

 

The ride to work is pleasant, Haru’s all happy after his hour in the pool, and even more delighted he doesn’t have to cram his way onto the train at rush hour. We have plenty of time left, too, so I stop off and buy us breakfast sandwiches, which we eat in the work car park. I set my hand on his leg, stroking gently, and he seems perfectly contented.

“Come on, easy day today,” I smile, finding his hand when he’s balling up his sandwich paper, giving him a little squeeze. “Are you coming to mine afterwards?” and I don’t _mean_ to look so needy, but I can’t help it, I love having him all to myself at the weekend.

He starts to nod, it’s just the routine, but then the corner of his eye twitches. “Maybe tomorrow?” he mumbles.

And… _oh_.

So he _doesn’t_ want to.

“That’s fine,” I lie, squeezing his hand, trying to act natural, “… plans?”

“Behind on school,” he shrugs, easily, relaxing, like rejecting me, even for just one night, is a weight off his shoulders. “After lunch?”

“It’s a date.”


	3. Chapter 3

Haru takes casually to the chaise, picking right back up where we left off yesterday, little picture of innocence right there, and he’s quite calm and contented to sit there working away, humming to himself, clicking his tongue in irritation occasionally and he’s just… so normal. As if nothing was ever the matter to begin with. I’m probably _staring_ I’m so blown away by this sudden transformation into his usual self.

He makes a little grunt, and I realise he’s come to look at me too.

“Yes, baby?”

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

“Well, that’s always dangerous.”

He gives a little smirk, and I try and calm down whatever my face is doing and get to my own work – which at this point is mostly just looking at Haru’s fantastic creations, work that just _speaks for itself_ and really doesn’t need my sketchy annotations.

“What colour should I do the donkey?” Haru asks a little later, not even looking up as he continues drawing, little eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Brown… maybe with spots.”

I wait while he draws, waiting for the little flick of the head that summons me over to check it, and he doesn’t fail my expectations. For some reason, I thought he would…

“Some around his face, too?” I offer, and he nods away while I crouch by him, arm behind his shoulders.

“Where?”

“Hmm… here?” and I kiss his nose, getting a snort out of him.

“Dork.”

“Your dork,” and he gets another kiss.

“You’re so _distracting_ ,” he whines, shoving me away with his nose in my cheek.

As if _he_ has any room to call me distracting. I have no idea how I’m managing to work with this gorgeous creature always in my peripheral vision, trying to keep my hands mostly to myself, because we’re so _public_ here, and my little Haru really doesn’t seem comfortable with that yet. I’m barely allowed to hold his hand if I take him out somewhere.

I squeeze his shoulders and leave him alone, he doesn’t look like he’s even acknowledged my absence, and I wonder, could I be _annoying_ him? I don’t meant to be _clingy_ , he’s just so touchable and… it’s not like he’s ever discouraged it.

“Hey,” I call out around eleven. “I’m getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Surprise me,” he mutters, scowling away at his laptop.

A hot cup of chai should do him nicely, then, grumpy little thing. Maybe with a side order of kisses. The coffee vendor is quiet, so I get our drinks quickly and head back to the office, pushing the door open with my shoulder. Haru hops up to come and help almost immediately.

“Thanks,” we say together as he takes his drink.

His lips quirk upwards and he eyes the lock. Wordlessly, I turn it, and we both head to the chaise.

“Come on then. What’s been on your mind?” I ask him as he leans into my chest, my arm coming around his shoulders.

He shrugs. “Nothing…”

“Really… even Rin said you’ve been acting weird the last few days. Is it school?” because really, that’s been _so_ low on his priorities lately I’m surprised he still has a place on his course, and thinking about it, I’m not surprised he needs a night off from my distractions to get back on track.

He shakes his head, but he’s not denying it.

“You can tell me, baby. I’ll do everything I can to help.”

He shuffles a little bit, like he’s getting more comfortable, but also like he’ just _itching_ with whatever it is, and then he finally heaves this huge sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Then let me help you work it out. It’s what I’m here for,” that and kissing it all better afterwards.

He scoffs a little. “You’re not my dad,” and maybe I should have added that last part out loud.

“No,” I agree. “But I do… care about you,” a lot, at that.

“Mm,” he hums, taking some of his tea. “Can I… reconsider tonight?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“As if I’d ever say no.”

It’s such a soft, chaste kiss. Sort of upset, sort of needy, but he pulls away with this little smile.

“Do you want me to have words with Rin about slapping your butt?” I ask him, because that seems to have been the catalyst for the latest bad mood.

He just shrugs.

“You didn’t look pleased,” I continue.

“It’s just Rin…”

“Yeah…” and I laugh, tussling his hair a little. “If it was anyone else, though…”

“Would you be jealous?” he asks, expectant.

“Yup,” and isn’t _that_ the easiest answer I’ve had for him all day.

He’s happy with my answer, as proved when he gives me another kiss. He shuffles some more, getting onto my knees, sitting sideways so he can hug his arms around my neck, drink still jostling in his hands.

“If you _spill_ that –”

“I get to sit with you shirtless for the rest of the day,” he shrugs, like he’s actually contemplating it, shifted right back into his usual cheeky self. “Come to mine for dinner.”

Demanding little thing. “I suppose, it _is_ good mackerel I got you,” I muse, cuddling him into me. “Hey, let’s work through lunch and leave early?”

“This isn’t exactly working…” he says, idly kissing up my jaw.

“This is our break,” our kissing break, and he rests so happily on me, finishing his drink.

I kiss him, open and wet, watching his eyes close and feeling a content little breath escape. “You taste like coffee,” he protests, even as he comes in for more.

“You still taste like that kipper thing you had this morning,” I counter, pecking him a little bit roughly. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mm… sorry.”

“It’s alright. I promise.”

I kiss him till he’s hard and panting and suspiciously eyeing the office door.

“Nope. Not happening,” I tell him, clapping my hand over his mouth before he can even _suggest_ taking this further.

He pouts. “I sucked _you_ off this morning.”

“In your _bathroom_ , Haru. You know, _in private_.”

“You’re the one with all the PDA,” he scowls, nosing into my neck.”

“I do _try_ to keep it PG, thank you. You shouldn’t be so irresistible.”

“Not irresistible enough, apparently,” he whines, but it’s not petulant, or even all that disappointed.

I rub him through his pants. “Minx.”

“Your minx.”

“Absolutely,” I kiss him again, and then shove him off with a spank, but he’s so _happy_ again, and oh, _oh_ how I want to tell him I love him, but…

I’m not really sure he’s ready.

 

He finishes up his series of donkey pictures quietly, and while I’m immersed in listening to the recording of a meeting to rejig my knowledge of what this guy wants, he comes over and pops his laptop down on the desk, and pops himself into my lap, swinging his legs over the arm of my chair. I pet his hair just a bit while I finish my notes with the other hand, letting him snuggle in, so content and relaxed and _confident_ that he’s more than welcome to splay himself out all over me.

I kiss his head, because that’s what he’s missing when he gets all worried and upset and _distant_ , like he thinks _he’s_ annoying _me_.

 _Idiot_.

At least I know what I need to get fixed this weekend with him, really _work_ on this fact that he _is_ my boyfriend, that I _do_ want his attention.

The donkey has a delightful smattering of dapples around his nose in his series of five frames, coming up to the fence around his enclosure and breaking into a grin. It even seems a waste that this will be going off somewhere else to be copied and animated, because no one else will capture this the same way Haru does. It sort of makes me want to go out and pet a donkey.

I’ll have to make do with Haru instead.

“He’s really cute,” I tell him, pulling out my ear buds. “Have you never wanted to get into animation?”

“Too much effort,” he grumbles. “I only draw free.”

This babe, honestly. I kiss his hair while I scroll through the images, him nuzzling right into my neck, apparently making up for lost time for being such a moody baby yesterday.

 

“ _Seriously, guys_ ,” a voice, and I know just whose it is too, with that sarcastic, chirpy slur he’s got going on, rings out from the doorway.

Oops. We didn’t lock it.

Kisumi strides over, grinning as he folds his arms. Haru scrabbles to get up out of my lap, but I wedge him down with a tight arm. His eyes go wide and he tenses so much I can feel it right through to my toes.

“Chill, cutie,” Kisumi smiles at him. “I’m just passing on a message from our favourite homeboy. Apparently you’re not replying to his texts,” and his smirk widens. “But I can see you’ve been a little _distracted._ ”

“Mm, and you’re interrupting,” I tell him, directing a pointed glare and giving Haru’s legs a stroke.

“Rin wants drinks and a catch up this weekend with the three of us…” he looks at Haru again, who’s just staring hard at the door, ignoring the pair of us, “ _four_ of us, even.”

“We have plans,” Haru mutters quietly.

“Oh, I _bet_ you do,” Kisumi snickers. “Another time, then. We obviously have a _lot_ to catch up on.”

Haru makes a little noise and Kisumi and I both look at him. His face is torn between irritation and embarrassment.

“Give the guy a kiss, poor thing’s like a deer in the headlights,” Kisumi laughs. “I always knew you had good taste.”

“Mm, I do, don’t I?” I agree, curling a hand in Haru’s hair and bringing his forehead to my lips. “You relax. It’s just this idiot.”

He leaves with a scowl and Haru’s eyebrows narrow at his back, and then rounds them on me.

“How long has he known?”

I shrug, smiling. “A while, at a guess.”

“This is your fault,” he grumbles.

“Probably,” I concur. “Bet it doesn’t do a _thing_ to stop him checking you out though.”

“Hmmf,” Haru grunts, but there’s a smile hiding there somewhere.

“You don’t mind, do you? You’re not embarrassed?”

He shakes his head. “Thought you would be.”

“ _Haru_ ,” I sigh. Seriously, where do I sign this boy up for lessons in this or something? “Is this why I haven’t met your friend yet?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know how he’ll take it…” I rub his back, encouraging him along. “He’s a bit protective.”

“My type of guy,” I smile. “He’d come around.”

Haru just hums, and a few moments later climbs up and heads away, worrying his bottom lip with a silent thought.

 

He’s smiling again when I get him inside his house and make out with him against the hallway wall for a few minutes, even before we’ve kicked our shoes off. And would you look at that, more of those adorable socks. He gives me free range of the lounge while he goes to change out of his work clothes – ah, the effort of getting him into an actual shirt in the mornings, because he has to interact more with customers now – and pack up his satchel for the weekend at mine. Not that we ever spend most of the time dressed anyway.

I’ve offered him drawer space, hell, he can have a whole chest if he wants, but he always ignores me, religiously packing up his bag and bringing home his dirty laundry. He comes back down in loose cut offs and a t-shirt I think is one he’s looted from Rin’s stash at mine, being baggy on him, but it’s cute, resting on the gorgeous curve of his ass. He gives me a side eye for staring as he goes into the kitchen.

“Can I help?” I ask, putting my chin on top of his head from behind.

“Nope,” he says curtly, filleting the fish I bought him. “This looks good.”

“Only the best for my boy.”

I settle my hands on his little waist while he cooks, squeezing and rubbing and just… just loving, really. He leans back while his fish cooks, almost like it’s instinctive, and with the same thought path I draw him closer.

“Thank you. For reconsidering,” I murmur into his hair. “I was worried.”

He startles just a little, tensing in my hold. “What about?”

I shrug, knowing he can feel it. “That you didn’t want to spend time with me?” I offer, struggling with how to word it.

“Idiot,” he grunts. “But I do have school work…”

“Bring it with you,” it’s not like we’ll have sex tonight, anyway. Don’t want to wear him out _just_ yet.

We eat in a happy silence, knees brushing under his table as we work our way through the mountain of food he’s placed in the centre, having cooked up all the fish so it doesn’t spoil over the weekend.

“Gonna bring a doggy bag?” I tease him as he starts to put it into containers.

He wavers for a moment, looking between me and the food. “I… might give it to Makoto,” he says. “He’s a crap cook.”

“Text him, then. And then we can get going.”

He nods and goes to get his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping away and then dumping it on the counter. I take it and leave it with my keys, because I know he’ll forget it otherwise.

Makoto lets himself into Haru’s home, cheerily calling out his arrival in a soft voice that seems appropriate for the way Haru talks about him. Haru’s in the kitchen doing the dishes – and after a broken plate the last time I tried to help, I’ve been sent to the lounge, which is the guy’s first stop on his Haru-hunt.

“Oh…” he says, looking more than just a little surprised.

“Hi,” I reply, just as awkwardly, and Haru comes bustling into the room with a bag.

“Makoto,” he breathes. “This is… Sousuke.”

“Oh,” Makoto repeats, and gives me a scrutinising look. “ _Sou-chan?_ ” he asks Haru.

“Yes,” he whispers.

 _Sou-chan_.

“Haru!” we yell together, and I grab at his waist with one hand and hold the other out to Makoto. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods, nervous, and shakes my hand, all the while staring hard at Haru, quirking his eyebrows, cocking his head, as if they’re communicating silently.

“He’s my… boyfriend,” and he whispers the word, and I realise it’s the first time he’s said it.

Makoto continues to nod, and then settles into a warm smile. “Somehow I thought you’d be younger,” he says, with a cocked eyebrow. “The way Haru-chan talks about _this guy from work_ who _keeps getting close_ , and he goes bright red and –”

“ _Makoto_ ,” Haru hisses, and I curl him into me, grinning like an idiot.

“So you do talk about me?” I tease, kissing his cheek.

“Sort of,” he mutters.

 

Haru ignores the canvas he’s set up on my dining table in favour of taking my hand and pulling me into the bathroom, setting the hot water to fill the tub as he diligently strips me off, unaffected by both my smirk and my arousal, before getting out of his own clothes and silently stepping in. I take my cue to get in behind him and pull him against me.

“This isn’t school work,” I tell him, even as I’m kissing his neck.

“Wanted a bath,” he shrugs, relaxing, head tilted back on my shoulder.

“Makoto seems nice.”

“Mm…”

“Better reaction than you expected?”

He nods, and the silence means I should just be quiet and _enjoy the water_ , or something, with him. It’s not a _long_ bath, by Haru’s standards, but he gets out apparently with the intentions of being productive, a contented little look on his face.

I love him.

His little boxer-briefs are bright blue and covered in little black dolphins, but the cuffs of the legs barely peek out under the black hoody of mine he’s acquired, rolling the sleeves back and pushing them up to his elbows.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Give me a kiss. You look cute.”

He rolls his eyes, but tilts his head up to me anyway, and I satisfy my craving.

Somehow, this weekend, I’m going to tell him how I feel. _Somehow_.

He draws in soft pastel, a landscape scene with a waterfall, and he looks proud of the finished product. I see him file it into his folder as _complete_. Good.

It’s my turn to drag him around now, so I take him straight to the bedroom, even though it’s only early, to pamper him and give him that blow job I denied him earlier. Although, we’re both a bit tired from such an early start, especially after last night. And Haru… Haru’s had a long week.

I suck him dry, drawing it out just enough that it’s not a wasted effort, but I decided against teasing him, at least for tonight. His kiss afterwards is nothing short of appreciative.

This is probably a good time, really, while he’s not on the edge of crying from being edged to a powerful orgasm for hours, while he’s not angry with me for bullying him about his adorable underwear, while he’s here, just all mine as he snuggles into my arms, intertwining our legs and still wearing my sweatshirt.

“Haru… I love you.”

I feel him blinking against me. “What?”

“I said _I love you_ ,” I stress, squeezing him tight.

“…Oh,” he splutters eventually. “Oh. Ok.”

It’s a kick, but it’s ok. I stroke his hair, kissing at his forehead, trying to be _soothing_ as he gets all tense and twitchy in my hold.

“Is that what this is, then?” he asks. I look at him, confused, and he gives an exasperated sigh. “ _This_ ,” and he presses a tight fist over his heart.

“Haru…”

“Is that the word… for this feeling?” he demands, voice pitched with worry. His lip wobbles. “I… thought…”

I cut him off with a tender kiss. “It’s ok, Haru. Is _this_ why you’ve been so weird these last few days? This feeling?”

He nods, and I’m worried there might be tears at some point tonight.

“Baby… come on, it’s ok. It’s just me. Deep breath.”

He listens, completely trusting, completely obedient, clinging to my arm almost painfully as he rattles himself for the right words. “I think I love you,” he whispers.

I just can’t think of anything else to say to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I REALLY DISLIKED THIS, for a bit. I'm still not completely happy with the first two chapters. The whole thing of this was really hard to get across just from Sousuke's point of view, and I wish they had more banter, and the whole thing was just less emotional.   
> Epilogue tomorrow.


	4. Epilogue

“Haruka!” Sousuke calls, and yeah, that full name thing? That’s a habit of his now. Especially when he’s grumpy, or tired, or _both_ , as I suspect today is.

“Yes?” I ask him, sweetly, heading into the kitchen, where the poor thing is just surrounded by boxes.

“Where the fuck are the mugs?” he demands.

Ah. Guy needs coffee. “Sit,” I tell him, directing him to one of our _shiny, swivelling_ bar stools at the island.

I find the mugs, you know, in the large, well-padded box labelled _crockery_ , with all our bowls and plates too, and I’m sorry, but he’s just going to have to have instant before we get his new contraption set up. Two spoons of extra rich with plenty of milk so he can drink it immediately.

“Here,” I say, passing it over, gently rubbing his other arm while he downs it. “Maybe we should chill for a few?”

“We have a whole _house_ to unpack, Haru…” he whines, holding his head in his hands.

“And the house isn’t going anywhere. It’s ours.”

 _Ours_. And it really is ours. Well, except for what we owe on the mortgage, but it’s not my parents’, and it’s not Sousuke’s rental place. It’s _ours_.

He opens up his legs for me to step into and hug him, taking deep breaths of my hair as he relaxes.

“Why couldn’t I have gotten a sports car for my midlife crisis? How did I end up with a swimmer instead?” he muses, teasingly as he brings his big warm arms right around me, resting his head on my shoulder.

“And when you start going bald and it’s embarrassing to be seen out with me would you just keep me locked in the garage?” I ask, squeezing him far too lovingly for the little digs we’re throwing.

“But… Haru did you want a house with a garage?”

“Idiot… No. I love this house.”

His lip, worrying against my neck, settles and stills with a kiss. “How’s the bed coming along?”

I gasp involuntarily, and before I can even answer he’s laughing into me. “Remind me again how I let you talk me into a waterbed? And a _round_ one at that?”

“It’s supportive for your back. And there’s more room to cuddle,” I inform him, very matter-of-factly.

He sighs, probably resisting the urge to argue _my back’s fine_ or some other delusion. “Is the couch clear?”

It is, mostly because I knew how much he’d be wanting it shortly. “Come on,” and I take his hand, clammy with sweat from all the hefty moving, and he’s so going to feel it tomorrow on his shoulder…

I tow him along and push him down into the fabric – an upgrade from his leather from his bachelor days. It’s all oversized, extra wide and extra long, with a circular jut at one end instead of having recliners. He lays down, and I cosy up into him, and we share little tender kisses on the lips.

“Just half an hour, then we’ll get back to it, alright?” he suggests, like this was his idea in the first place.

I nod complacently, sticking one hand up his tee, just for the warmth of his skin, soft and hairy, having cut back on the waxing in the last couple of years, and especially in the last few months with getting the house move settled and underway. I stroke his chest, just petting him, while he does the same with my back. Just touching and loving and caressing, but then his hand starts to wander, sliding its way to my ass, gripping and kneading, cranking it right up to eleven.

And this guy’s supposed to be forty five.

But two can play at this game, and it’s not hard to sneak up to his nipples, the shirt riding up with me and I quickly work it over his head.

“Really? Right here?” he asks. “You don’t want to save it for the bed?”

Ah… _well_.

He chuckles, rolling onto his back and sliding me on top of him. “You’re never going to calm down, are you?”

“Keeping you young. Better watch it or I’ll be putting you on the little blue pills.”

Not that he’s anywhere _close_ to needing them. Fit as a fiddle, still sculpted and stunning with his packed walls of muscle, still piling on the protein with all the pork and steak he inflicts on our diets. I have wrangled fish three times a week, though. We kiss, getting hotter and heavier, and I’m just getting harder and hornier until I’m humping against him. I can feel his smirk, he knows I’m getting desperate.

“Fine. We can christen the lounge first,” as if he thinks he’s getting away with denying me in the bedroom tonight.

He fucks me face first into the sofa, harder than we’ve gone in a while, nothing but my own spit on his fingers to lube us up and finishes deep inside me, so hot and so much I can feel it, before flipping me onto my back to suck me dry. None of that _stamina_ crap of our early days. Just raw, hot sex.

I take a quick spin under the shower, having grabbed the shirt he’d been wearing to throw on after wards, just for comfort, and just in case anyone’s nosing in on the new neighbours while I’m padding to the bedroom.

Sousuke’s fixed the bed up, putting the cushioned layer over the water mattress and making it up with his favourite black silk sheets – I prefer the navy flannelette set – and he lies spread eagle across the huge space, and I’m spoiled for choice with where to lie for some more kisses, but his side is enough, pillowing on his chest and hooking both my legs around one of his.

“You know I love you, don’t you,” he says softly.

And I do, _I do_. “And I love you,” I mumble in return, a bit busy kissing at his chest.

He pulls a stalk of grapes from a packet he’s put on the night stand, dangling them towards my mouth.

That’s what started all this, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this marks the END of the SouHaru Daddy Kink series.   
> I hope you enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be three chapters and an epilogue. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe. We'll see how that turns out.  
> As always, I'm a whore for comments and kudos but I love you just for reading it.


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